Rebels: Out of the Past
by Gainsborough
Summary: The crew of the Ghost follows an echo in The Force to a ship crashed on a world circling a dead sun. What they find inside could chance the future of the galaxy.
1. Chapter 1

Star Wars Rebels

Out of the Past

Chapter 1

Suddenly, an unexpectedly, the white tunnel of light that surrounded the Y-Wing vanished, and with a painful jerk the ship returned to normal space.

"Damn it!" Ezra said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Chopper, what happened?"

 **Shut up, I'm working on it.** flashed across one of the displays of the pilot's control panels.

"Do you know where we are?" Kanan's voice carried forward from the gunner's seat.

"Not yet," Ezra said, as his hands flew across the controls of the navcomp console. "Still somewhere in the mid-rim, I imagine."

It was times like these that Ezra really missed Kanan's sight; using the Force he could still do many things, like fighting; but he couldn't read a computer display.

 **That stupid hunk of junk hyperdrive that we salvaged burned out on us. I don't know why we had to provide the stupid hyperdrive; Bail Organa's a viceroy of an entire planet, don't you think he could've got off his high-nerf and given us one; we gave him the damn Y-Wings in the first place!**

"We can't use anything that can be traced back to him or the government of Alderaan," Ezra said. "Can you fix it?"

 **I need to take it apart first, I'll let you know.** Ezra heard him pop out of his socket and heard the scraping of his magnet casters as he rolled across the surface of the fighter.

Ezra turned his attention back to the navcomp. "Okay, so it looks like we're… nowhere. Mid-Rim, like I thought, but we're more than 10 light-years from any star, outside of the heliopause of any system." He left it unsaid: there was no place for them to go for repairs, even if any of the nearby solar systems were inhabited.

The silence that followed was only broken by the clanking of Chopper taking apart the hyperdrive.

"At least we're unlikely to run across any Imperial patrols out here," Kanan said.

Ezra was reminded of a legend back on Lothal about a girl who never gave up hope; even as she fell into the sandpit of an antlion she believed that everything would work out in the end. It didn't, though, she wasn't able to escape, and the antlion ate her.

The clanking stopped and Chopper scraped back to the socket and plugged himself in.

 **The damage is extensive. I can probably repair it with parts from the repulsorlifts.**

"That should be fine, we're only returning to the _Tantive IV_ , so I don't think we'll need them," Ezra said. "How long should it take?"

Ezra shouted some curse words as the response scrolled across the display.

"What is it?" Kanan said.

"We're going to be stuck here for almost a day!" Ezra said.

"That's well within the timeframe of our rendezvous with the _Tantive IV_ ," Kanan said.

And naturally we can't contact them to have them pick us up, Ezra thought. Any communication could be intercepted, so they couldn't take the risk unless it was an emergency; and being stuck in interstellar space for a day didn't qualify.

The hours moved at a glacial pace. Kanan had gone into a Jedi trance, and suggested that Ezra do the same. Ezra wasn't even tempted to try, as he felt restless.

For the first couple of hours he played with his new toy, an old gaming device he picked up at their last stop. It had a flat screen and limited controls, but it was amazing how compelling it could be. As was common for the past couple of days, he felt himself feeling nostalgia for a time before he had been born.

This job had been a most unusual one. There was an annual meeting of Clone Wars enthusiasts on Rustibar, a backwater planet in the Mid-Rim. Every year these enthusiasts met to swap stories and show off their latest acquisitions: obsolete technology that had become more difficult to maintain as the years passed and replacement parts stopped being produced.

Kanan and Ezra had come here to find potential suppliers, since much of the Rebellion's aging technology dated back to this era. They were also on the lookout for potential allies. It was a difficult, and dangerous, assignment. If the person they propositioned had imperial ties, they could end up in the mines of Kessel. So it was decided that the perception of a Jedi was necessary to make the trip work, and both Master and Padawan had been drafted.

The Y-Wings they had secured for the Rebellion recently had dated back to that era, and they were also the early models which accommodated two passengers, so they had borrowed one from Bail Organa and went undercover as enthusiasts.

It remained to be seen how successful the mission had been; they'd gotten several business plaques and it would be Rebel Intelligence's job to see if they would be of any use.

After another fifteen minutes he tired of the gaming device's catalog of games and started to practice using the force to levitate the objects of his bag around the inside of the cockpit. It stopped being fun when he realized that he could have gotten the same effect by turning the cockpit's gravity off.

He lounged back in the pilot's seat and closed his eyes. He was considering trying to enter into a Jedi trance, but he forgot about it as the rhythmic clanking of Chopper's repairs lulled him to sleep.

Kanan was, truth be told, not in a Jedi trance. There was neither a shortage of air or food which would have required such a trance; Kanan simply told Ezra he was entering the trance so that he wouldn't be disturbed as he was meditating.

The lie hadn't exactly had the expected effect, since Ezra still managed to disturb his meditation. Now that he was finally asleep, Kanan could begin to meditate in earnest.

A sufficiently trained Jedi is capable, while in deep meditation, of projecting their perception outside of their body and into their environment. Many Jedi used this as a way to see around corners, or through walls; but as a youngling he had been taught by Master Yoda to unlearn the limitations of his mortal frame.

Some Jedi were never able to perceive more than a few meters around them, stuck in the imaginary limitations that were analogous to those of their eyes or ears. Kanan had learned the lesson that Master Yoda had been trying to teach them; the loss of his sight had only made his perception that much more powerful.

His perception enlarged, taking in the entire Y-Wing; Ezra's snoring body and his troubled psyche; Chopper's slow and tedious work on the hyperdrive; the energy that flowed through the network of cables and circuit boards within the ship.

He expanded outward so that the Y-Wing was a small piece of drift-wood floating in a sea of black nothingness. He longed to increase his perception to the nearby stars, hopeful that he might savor the refreshing scent of life.

He felt it, a red dwarf star; so energetic compared to anything else he had felt, but cold as far as stars went. There were no planets surrounding it, only asteroids, and no ships nearby; the system was as dead as the interstellar gulf they were adrift in.

In the opposite direction was a star which was so small that even his perception was unable to visualize it at this distance, he only knew it was there because of its enormous energy. The star exuded that energy in two powerful beams, the swift rotation of the star made them sweep the surrounding void like searchlights.

Kanan had seen pulsars both with the naked eye and on a display screen with a wide-spectrum view. Neither case did this star justice; the sheer beauty of this star, which would appear dim and insignificant to the naked eye (if it was visible at all), was breathtaking.

Since neutron stars were born from supernovas, Kanan hadn't expected to find any planets in the system, much less life. He certainly didn't expect to feel a faint echo of his perception come back to him through the Force.

It was something he had experienced before, during his training-when he was practicing telepathy with a partner-attempting to read the mind of a Jedi who was attempting to read his mind; it was analogous to feedback on a comlink.

However this echo was very faint compared to his memories, possibly due to the distance, and possibly due to something else. He had encountered something similar during one of his missions to infiltrate a the stronghold of a minor Hutt who had been conspiring with the Separatists during the Clone Wars. The Hutt had kept as pet fierce canines that were capable of sensing and tracking Jedi through the Force. Whenever one of the animals had sensed him, he had felt a similar faint echo.

Kanan felt the cool sensation of hope flowing into his soul; they may have just found another Jedi.

"Ezra! Ezra, wake up!"

"Whaa?" Ezra said, reluctantly sitting up in the pilot seat. He rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to get the crick out of it. He shoulder also hurt from where Kanan had been shaking it.

"I want you to crank up the navcomp, find out any information you can on a Pulsar in this sector," Kanan said.

"You woke me up for that?!" Ezra seethed.

"There's something out there, Ezra," Kanan said, and immediately Ezra knew this was serious. "Something out there that can use The Force."

Ezra nodded in compliance, more for his own benefit since Kanan wouldn't see it. After a few moments he found what they were looking for.

"The star is called GPS-7AA, age 200 million years…" Ezra looked up. "Isn't that pretty young for a star?"

"The kind of massive stars that produce supernovas don't live as long as stars like Lothal's sun," Kanan said. "Does it have any planets?"

Ezra flipped forward a couple of pages on the data file. "Two known planets, it says. Neither capable of supporting life."

"No records of any colonies?" Kanan said.

"None that were important enough to be in the navcomp," Ezra said.

Kanan pondered that in silence for several moments.

"How long until Chopper has finished the repairs?" Kanan asked.

Ezra looked over at the chronometer he'd set to countdown. "About two hours."

"It looks like I'll have to heed my own advice about meeting our circumstances with patience," Kanan said, not quite managing to keep some petulance out of his voice.

Ezra smiled wryly.

"This could be a trap," Hera said. "Remember what happened with Luminara."

"If it is a trap, it would be an extremely subtle one. Do you realize the chain of events that would have to occur for me to be aware of the bait, much less take it?" Kanan said.

They were sitting in the galley of the _Tantive IV_. The _Ghost_ and her crew had already arrived at the rendezvous point by the time Ezra and Kanan had made it; so both Hera and Bail Organa were there to greet them as the Y-Wing pulled into the landing bay. He could feel the relief, even if he couldn't see it on their faces. Bail Organa noted that he would be happy to not have to explain to General Dodonna why his Gold Squadron would be short a fighter.

"I also don't want to take the _Ghost_ into a pulsar system unless I absolutely have to. We'd have to have shields on full the entire time just to keep from frying up," Hera said.

"Which makes an ambush even less likely; this would be one of the few times the Empire would be on a level playing field," Kanan said.

"We wouldn't even be able to explore any of the planets, you'd need power suits to survive outside," Hera said.

"Whatever this things is, it's alive, which means that there must be some place in the system which is amiable to life," Kanan said.

"Maybe not human life," Zeb said, taking a break from devouring a mollusk right out of its shell. "You'd be surprised the kind of hostile environments life can survive in. There are fish which swim in the lava seas of Mustafar."

"If that's the situation, then we'll come back once we're better equipped. All I'm asking is for a chance to see what's there," Kanan said. "A scouting mission, that's all it is."

Hera drummed her fingers on the table in frustration, her head-tentacles occasionally wagging in frustration. Finally she turned to Zeb. "What do you think about this? I think I might be overly cautious, but I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Trusting feelings is a Jedi's stock-in-trade," Zeb said. "Though any spacer worth their spice knows to trust their gut… But if there's even a chance that one of Kanan's people is out there, and needs help, it's a risk we need to take."

"All right, you've got the _Ghost_ , and her crew, but if she gets so much as a scratch on her paint job…" Hera said.

"I'll get Ezra to repaint her, then," Kanan said.

"Hey!" Ezra said, spitting out a mouthful of soup.

"What, you'd prefer the blind guy do it?" Kanan said.

As Kanan suspected all information on GPS-77A, in every database they had access to, had come from a long range surveying probe. They had gravity silhouettes of the two known planets, and nothing else.

One of them was 70 AUs from the pulsar, and had enough mass to be a gas giant.

The other was merely 3 AUs from the pulsar, and had a mass roughly five times that of Coruscant, so possibly a super-terrestrial planet, or a gas dwarf. Either way, Kanan decided that it was the best bet.

When they jumped out of hyperspace, Kanan heard a groan from Hera.

"Looks like we might need those powersuits after all," she said.

Ezra looked up from the scanner console. "There are no hills or mountain on this side of the planet; it's completely flat!" He gasped as he looked out the window. "Is… Is that ice?"

Kanan didn't need to be able to see the planet to understand what they were seeing. "No, it's crystal."

"The entire planet is covered by crystal?" Ezra said.

"It isn't a planet at all, it's what's left of one. When this system's star went supernova, it ripped the atmosphere off of the gas giant that was here. What we're looking at is its solid core."

"A chthonian planet," Hera said, breathlessly. "I've never seen one of those in the flesh."

Ezra looked back at the scanner. "I'm reading an atmospheric pressure of 0.0. Not even any trace gases."

"I'll meditate and see if I narrow down where our friend might be," Kanan said, and walked into the back of the ship.

Kana sat on the floor of the ship, his legs folded beneath him, and began to focus on his breathing. Within seconds he freed his perception from the shackles of his body, and cast it beyond the confines of the ship.

When he was finally able to visualize the planet beneath him, he was taken astonished. He knew of chthonian planets from his Jedi training, but he had never actually seen one before. He knew that he heavy elements all sank to the center of the planet while it was still the core of a gas giant, and lighter elements, like silicon and carbon, made up the outer layers, with carbon making up the outmost layer because it was the lightest. Since the carbon was under immense pressure at the heart of the gas giant, it would fuse into exotic allotropes; what this ended up meaning is that the crust of chthonic planets were made of diamond.

He had expected a greyish-white glaze to cover the planet, but he had forgotten that impurities could enter into the diamond from the mantle and core. The result of this was that just about every color of the rainbow was present on the surface. There were streaks of rust red, swirls of purple, blobs of blue, yellow streaking through vast plains of white diamond.

If it looks this beautiful in the dim light of the pulsar, Kanan thought, I can only imagine what it would like in the light of a main sequence star. He was so mesmerized that the beauty, that he didn't notice the echo at first.

He narrowed his perception and employed several tricks that he had devised on his own to range the echo. He traced it to somewhere on the dark side of the planet. As there was no light on that side of the planet, he couldn't see where the echo was coming from. He cast his perception until the echo became powerful and insistent, and tried his best to get an image of its source.

Somehow, and he was never sure where from, he got the image of a massive ship, crashed into the surface; part of the ship's bow cracking the crystal of the surface, causing cracks that ran for kilometers. Also he knew without a doubt that the mind he was touching was not only sapient, but human.

Kanan roused himself and walked back to the cockpit.

"It's on the far side of the planet, a ship. Try scanning for common alloys or plastics," Kanan said.

Hera nodded and fired the thrusters: enough to increase their velocity, but not fast enough to break orbit. Rapidly they passed the terminator and entered the sky above the dark side of the planet.

"Have you managed to calculate the length of this planet's day yet?" Kanan said.

Hera chuckled. "There isn't one, the planet is tidally locked."

"What does that mean?" Ezra said.

"It means that only one side of the planet ever faces the pulsar. That may be how someone survived; the entire planet shields it from the radiation," Kanan said.

"I got it!" Ezra said. "It's a freighter of some kind; I don't recognize the model."

Hera looked at the silhouette on the radar screen. "That looks like a Hutt design."

"Are you picking up a distress call?" Kanan said.

"Not on any of the usual frequencies," Ezra said.

"Send out a message on all common frequencies, ask if they need our help," Kanan said.

Five minutes passed in silence. Kanan finally turned to Hera. "We need to land."

"Are you crazy?" Ezra and Hera both said at the same time.

"The artificial gravity in the cabin will keep everyone safe. It may be stressful, but if we land close enough, Ezra and I should be able to walk over to the ship. Once there we can have Chopper repair the artificial gravity in the freighter."

From the engineering compartment came a spurt of static that Kanan was pretty sure was obscene.

"That's assuming we're able to land!" Hera said.

"You've skirted the event horizons of black holes," Kanan said. "Five gravities should be nothing compared to that. Also the planet has no atmosphere, so there's no drag or turbulence to worry about."

"Look, I'm sure we can walk half a kilometer or whatever in five gees, but what if we get in a fight?" Ezra said.

"I've had high gravity training as a Jedi," Kanan said.

"Yes, but that was how many decades ago? And don't forget that I haven't!" Ezra said.

"Luckily whatever we would have to fight will be under the same strain," Kanan said.

"All the same, I want you to take Zeb with you," Hera said.

"What?!" Zeb said as he stood up, finally paying attention to the conversation.

"I can't believe you roped me into this," Zeb grumbled over the spacesuit com.

Ezra couldn't imagine how anyone would have the energy to complain. Every muscle in his body was in agony; it even hurt to breathe. Each step took so much effort to make that Ezra had begun shuffling instead of walking; this was aided by the smooth ground. He could imagine just how ridiculous he must look, waddling along like some arctic fowl.

It was so dark that Ezra wouldn't have been able to see his hand in front of his face if it weren't for the helmet lamps. Ezra shuddered as he realized that, since the world was tidally locked, it's possible that nothing more than starlight had ever touched this side of the planet.

They were following Chopper, who lead them towards the crashed ship with his sensors. He made occasional cutting remarks over the com, which thankfully none of them were able to interpret.

Chopper suddenly skidded to a halt; his dome whirled around to face them. He squawked at them over the com. Ezra was at the lip of the crater before he saw it; he almost stepped over the edge. He staggered back and fell to his knees. He leaned forward so that his helmet lamps could illuminate the crater.

It was at least five meters deep, dead in the center of the crater was a long thin ship with a globular compartment on the end, which had crushed into a demisphere which was open to vacuum. Ezra suspected it was the crew compartment.

"That's a Hutt freighter, all right. You can tell because of the winged decoration on the rear sections," Zeb said. "Never seen this particular model, though."

"How are we going to get down there?" Ezra said.

Zeb turned to walk along the lip of the crater. "This thing crashed headfirst, if we're lucky some of the rear compartments might be out of the crater." After a few moments. "I was right, the very tail-end of it is just a meter down into the crater."

Ezra felt like a fool as they climbed down into the one-meter deep pit on ropes. Jedi and a hardened warrior might be able to survive a jump into such a pit in five gees, but they would almost certainly break something or at least tear a muscle.

"Should we cut a hole in the hull with our lightsabers?" Ezra said.

"No need to bother," Zeb said. "I'm sure there are plenty of tears in the hull. We just need to find one."

They walked into the crater, the ground crunching below their feet. It suddenly occurred to Ezra that the gravel his feet were crunching was powdered diamond. This was going to make a great story to tell at the cantina.

Unfortunately none of the holes that crash had ripped in the hull were large enough, or in convenient enough locations, for them to access the interior of the ship. They ended up having to walk the entire thousand-feet length of the freighter.

They shot liquid cable lines up to the bulkhead of the first level in the smashed crew compartment, and climbed up into the crew quarters level. A desiccated Twi'lek slumped against the wall at an unnatural angle. His nakedness suggested that he had been sleeping when the ship crashed.

The door was jammed, so Ezra cut through it with his lightsaber; he wondered if the muscles in his arm would ever forgive him.

"No power, either the reactor ran out of fuel or was disabled in the crash," Zeb said.

"Or all doors were sealed when the hull breach occurred," Kanan said.

"Then why would the artificial gravity be off?" Zeb said.

"Could be the lattice in the floors was damaged," Kanan said.

Ezra couldn't imagine where they found the energy to chat like that. It had almost gotten to the point where he was too tired to think.

"Are the main reactors in the engine compartment, do you think?" Kanan said.

"Probably, but crew compartments tend to have backups," Zeb said.

"Chopper, could you take a look?" Kanan said.

Ezra looked around. "Chopper?" He he was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly a series of jubilant hoots came over the intercom.

Ezra's helmet lamps finally caught sight of him, about ten meters astern.

"What's got him so excited?" Zeb said.

Very quickly the light of their helmet lamps fells on the object of Chopper's interest, and he understood.

"Good job, Chopper!" Ezra said.

It was a repulsor sled with four seats and a spacious cargo bed.

"Does it still have power?" Kanan asked.

Chopper replied with another happy hoot.

They quickly got aboard, Ezra grabbing the driver's seat for themselves. Ezra couldn't remember anything in his life that felt as good as finally being able to sit down. Well, there was that time with Rachel behind the power-station…

The repulsorlifts were reluctant to start at first, and even once they did they made an unhealthy grinding noise, but the sled rose and stayed aloft.

They needed to cut through three more doors, and they passed almost a dozen corpses along the way, including a Hutt in some sort of command dias. They must have moved out of the crew quarters and into the command center. Eventually they made it into a large room filled with large cylinders that extended far beneath the floor they were walking on. They had found the reserve generators.

Chopper began to assess the damage, but Kanan said they needed to keep going.

"It's difficult to rest in high gravity, if we don't expend our energy in the search, we'll lose it by trying to rest," Kanan said.

"That's all fine and good, but we have no idea where we should be looking; or really what we're looking for," Zeb said.

"Very well, I'll see if I can get us some guidance," Kanan said, and folded his legs beneath him.

They waited a long time; Ezra got the impression that Kanan was having trouble focusing. Or perhaps time just seemed to slow down due to the greater gravity. Ezra seemed to remember reading somewhere that the passage of time in an environment was proportional to its gravity; but as far he knew that was only noticeable in the case of black holes.

"What we're looking for is in the back of the ship, almost to the engines," Kanan said.

"Of course it is," Zeb grumbled.

"Do you have any idea what it is?" Ezra said.

"No," Kanan said; from his tone it was obvious something was bothering him. "It's in some kind of cargo hold, but my perception just sees that place as a blind spot… There's something else… Whoever or whatever is back there, it's not alone."

They left Chopper to repair the generator while they went in search of Kanan's quary. They then had to cut a hole through a double-thick bulkhead. Once they were through, however, Ezra got the impression that they wouldn't have to cut their way through much anymore. The cargo compartment they were in was wide open, and seemed to go on forever. They zipped right along on the repulsor sled, though it kept bumping the ground, as the sled was never meant to be run on an inclined surface, and with the engine compartment of the ship sticking up in the air (vacuum?) as it was, the floor of the ship was basically a ramp.

The first blaster bolt hit the sled long before the wardroid was illuminated by their sled's headlights .

That first shot simply singed the bumper of the sled. Ezra began to swerve, but Kanan's hand clamped around his wrist. "Don't, the broadside will present it with more targets. Keep straight ahead."

Of course, Ezra though. He'd been panicking; he thought he'd overcome that.

Two more shots hit the sled, another in the bumper, another that melted through the windscreen but managed to not hit anyone.

Finally the wardroid came within sight; Ezra was glad to finally see what was shooting at them, but that was little solace. The thing was made of some greenish-grey metal; it wasn't built to resemble a human; or possibly anything at all, but it looked insectine. Its body consisted of a linked chain of metal segments, which alternatively had either limbs or blaster barrels. It walked on three of these, the rest were curved back so the blaster barrels could get a bead on their target.

"Get out," Ezra said. "I'm going to ram it."

He had expected an argument, but Zeb and Kanan quickly tuck-and-rolled out of the sled. Ezra ducked his head down as far to the dashboard as the helmet allowed and slammed down on the accelerator. The wardroid must have figured out what he was doing, because it began to skitter out of the way, but he was faster, and struck it head-on. There was a horrible screeching noise as it was pulled along under the bumper of the sled, followed by a satisfying crunch as droid and sled both slammed into the bulkhead on the far side of the compartment.

Ezra looked up, dazed. Unfortunately the wardroid hadn't taken nearly as long to recover. It was trying to pull out from where it had been wedged between the sled and the bulkhead. Then suddenly the upper segments snapped loose from the lower ones, and a much smaller, but just as deadly, wardroid crawled over the hood towards Ezra.

Ezra leapt to his feet and attempted to backflip out of the sled; he had forgotten about the five gee gravity and ended up sumersaulting over two sets of seats before landing hard on his ass in the cargo bed. He skittered out of the cargo bed and pulled out his lightsaber, igniting it as he did so.

The wardroid fired all four of its blasters at him all at once; Ezra tried to deflect them back with his lightsaber, but the gravity so impaired his reflexes that he only managed to block them.

He noticed that the segments which had limbs also had a red lense; possibly a camera or other kind of sensor? If he used his lightsaber in blaster mode, he might be able to take them out and blind the wardroid. However it was firing at him so rapidly that he didn't think he'd get a chance.

"Hey, I need some help, those lens things are probably sensors. Can one of you take them out?" Ezra said.

"Hold on kid, we'll be right there," a winded Zeb said over the com.

There wouldn't be enough time, though. The last few hours in five gees of gravity had taken their toll, and even with the Force to guide his reflexes, Ezra's muscles weren't able to keep up with the signals his brain was sending one them. One of the bolts got through and hit him in the leg. He fell to one knee, and the other bolt hit his hand, and his lightsaber went flying.

The lenses of the wardroid seemed to glare at him as it charged its blasters for another hit. This is it, Ezra realized. This is how Ezra Bridger, rebel and Jedi Padawan, died.

Suddenly it seemed as if the entire ship shook, and relief flooded through every muscle in Ezra's muscles. The compartment was suddenly flooded with light as the long-dormant lamps switched back on.

The sudden changes caused a moment of confusion in the wardroid; but that hesitation ended up being fatal. With the burden of five gravities gone, even the pain in his leg and hand weren't enough to keep Ezra from concentrating, and he grabbed the wardroid with the Force, and slammed it against the bulkhead so hard that not only was it crushed beyond recognition, but the bulkhead buckled and cracked from the force.

By the time Zeb and Kanan reached him, he had sealed the punctures in his suit with a tube of sealant from a pouch on the leg of his suit.

"Are you okay, kid?" Zeb said. "After seeing how hard you hit the wall with the sled, I figured out you for a goner."

"I got a couple of blaster hits; luckily I don't seem to be bleeding," Ezra said.

"The bolts probably cauterized the wound," Kanan said. "Just to be on the safe side, we probably shouldn't move you."

"What the hell was that thing?" Ezra said, staring at the crushed droid. He couldn't imagine how much force it needed to hit the bulkhead with to crack like that. "It doesn't look like any battle droid I've ever seen."

"This isn't a CIS job from Geonosis. The Hutt's have been building their own for centuries now. If the Sepratists had been using these babies, they would've won the war," Zeb said.

"Luckily the Hutts are jealous of their technology; it's the only thing in the galaxy they won't put a price on," Kanan said.

Kanan suddenly looked lost in thought, staring at the bulkhead. Ezra almost thought he was going to accuse him of using the Dark Side of the Force to crush the wardroid. He was actually surprised to learn, on recollection, that he hadn't.

"I can feel him," Kanan said, hauntingly. "He's in the next compartment."

Kanan started walking through the door which connected the compartments. After a moment's hesitation Zeb followed him.

"Hey, wait for me!" Ezra said, and stood up. He was able to walk, the shot to his leg must have been a glancing one. It hurt like hell, however. He steeled himself with the Force and hobbled after his master and crewmate.

The next compartment was a cargo bay, like the one they had just left. But where that one had been almost empty, this one contained rack after rack of metal slabs. On the side of each slab were flashing lights, buttons, and switches.

Kanan sighed; Zeb grumbled; neither said anything.

"What are those things?" Ezra said.

"People, frozen in carbonite," Kanan said.

Ezra blinked rapidly; he tried to take a quick count of the slabs; there were about twenty in each rack, and there were a bunch of racks in an aisle, and there must have been at least fifty aisles. There were thousands—no, tens of thousands-people.

"But why would they freeze people in carbonite?" Ezra asked.

"Slavers. Those bastards were slavers," Zeb spat out.

Kanan started walking towards the far end of the compartment.

"Kanan, the Rebellion doesn't have the resources to fix this. We're going to have to bring in the government of Alderaan," Zeb was saying, then he noticed that Kanan had walked away. "Yes, of course, you still need to find 'him'. Who cares about slaves?"

Ezra hobbled after Kanan. Eventually he found him in one of the aisles at the near the end of the compartment. He stood behind one of the slabs, lost in thought. Ezra went to stand beside him. Etched into the slab of carbonite was a bearded human face, screaming in agony.

"Who is he?" Ezra said.

"A Jedi," Kanan said. "That's all I know."

The _Tantive IV_ jumped into the system twelve hours later. There were two medical frigates scheduled to jump into the system eighteen hours after that. However by that time the _Ghost_ and her crew would need to be long gone.

It had been obvious that the Rebellion wouldn't be able to resuscitate all of the slaves. What hand't been so obvious was that it would've been impossible to keep the secret from the Empire. More than that, any attempt to keep the secret at all would put the 12,000 people on the slave ship, most of them Republic citizens, in jeopardy.

"We have no right to choose for them," Bail Organa had said to Kanan and Hera. "And only the Empire can reunite them with their families."

He had promised to do everything with a select committee in the Senate, and would do his best to make sure the Emperor himself didn't get involved. It was still cold comfort to the rebels who knew how bad life under the Empire could be.

Crewmen from the _Tantive IV_ were already on the surface, preparing the carbonite blocks for transport. As per Kanan's instructions one of them was ferried up to the _Tantive IV_ and taken to the medical bay.

Several loyal technicians and a GH-9 droid worked on the carbonite block as Kanan and Bail looked on. Ezra was present as well, but was floating in a bacta tank at the far end of the medical bay, and was dead to the world.

"How long has he been in hibernation?" Kanan said.

"These readings say he was frozen 42 year ago," the technician said.

"I didn't know anyone could survive that long frozen in carbonite," Bail said.

"I don't see why not, even though freezing is only used for short term purposes, the hibernation coma could probably last indefinitely," the technician said.

"I believe we have stabilized him as much as is possible from the external life support frame. We must unfreeze him now," GH-9 said.

"I thought you said the shock might kill him?" Bail said.

"At this point there is nothing else we can do, the carbonite encasement must be removed," GH-9 said.

Bail and Kanan exchanged looks. Kanan nodded.

"Go ahead," Bail said.

The technicians adjusted the temperature controls on the life support frame, and slowly but surely the carbonite melted away. The figure that was left in the frame was in late middle age with white hair, however his exposed chest rippled with muscles. He wore a simple brown robe and had a medallion hanging from his neck.

Two of GH-9's nurses moved the old Jedi from the remnants of the carbonite block to one of the beds. GH-9 flew around the man, placing data-leads and IV tubes in here and there.

"If he does not awaken on his own, I will transfer him to one of the bacta tanks to recover…" GH-9 said. "I don't understand, he's already recovering consciousness…"

"Jedi are very resilient," Kanan said.

"We are at that," the man rasped. He opened his eyes, which were a plain brown, and took in the surroundings.

"I would ask if I were a prisoner," he rasped, then coughed a little. When he spoke again his voice was clear and strong. "But I can feel that you bear me no ill-will. Where am I?"

"You are onboard my ship, Master Jedi. My name is Bail Organa, I am Viceroy of Alderaan," Bail said.

"Giles's boy?"

Bail stared at him, nonplussed. "Well, yes."

"I am Kanan Jarrus, Jedi Knight," Kanan said. "I heard you; from over ten light years away."

"Yes, your mind is familiar to me. I don't remember calling to you; it was all like a dream to me," the man said.

"As for myself, my name is Jorus C'Baoth, Jedi Master."


	2. Chapter 2

Star Wars Rebels

Out of the Past

Chapter 2

 _Now_

"What do you know about Master C'Baoth?" Bail Organa said.

"Not much," Kanan admitted.

Kanan and Bail were in the _Tantive IV_ 's galley after GH-9 had thrown them out of the medical bay. The medical droid said that Jorus C'Baoth needed a complete physical exam, and that required privacy. They complied, even though C'Baoth seemed even less happy about it then they did.

Bail and Kanan ordered up a couple of nerf fillets with roasted tubers and sat down to talk.

"He would've been frozen almost a decade before I was born, so I obviously never met him," Kanan said. "I do remember that Mace Windu inherited his council seat."

"Hey Sabine!" Ezra's voice echoed across the nearly empty galley.

Sabine had been sitting alone at one of the tables near the entrance, reading a datapad.

Ezra sprinted to her table, his leg obviously completely healed by the bacta bath. He was carrying a large chunk of the chthonian planet's crust with him.

"Here, I got this for you; a diamond bigger than your head," Ezra said, proudly offering it to her.

Sabine stared at the dull grey rock for a few moments in silence.

"You, uh, should probably polish it up a little," Ezra said.

Sabine took it from him. "Um, thanks." She managed a smile.

Bail and Kanan exchanged grins.

"What do you know about him? He seems to have known your father," Kanan said.

"That was a surprise to me. I only know about him because of the time I spent reading the Senate Annals from the last fifty years of the Republic. I've always had a penchant for hopeless causes, and his story fascinated me," Bail said.

"I think everyone on this ship has a penchant for hopeless causes," Kanan said.

Bail responded with a grimace.

"Master C'Baoth was responsible for one of the most extensive canceled projects in the history of the Republic," Bail said. "He was originally going to lead an expedition into the Unknown Regions, and later out of the galaxy and into the dwarf galaxies surrounding it. He was going to explore and map all of it, as well as find Force-sensitive races and create new enclaves of Jedi."

"Why do you smell so sour?" Sabine's voice echoed across the galley.

"Oh, it's the bacta, it takes forever for me to get it out of my hair," Ezra said.

"I've never heard of that project," Kanan said. "The Jedi were involved?"

"Yes. It was called the Outbound Flight Project."

* * *

 _Then_

"The Outbound Flight Project has been canceled," Ki-Adi-Mundi said.

"What idiocy is this?" C'Baoth asked. "What was the Senate's reasoning?"

"Aside from the cost involved, the Senate decided any attempt to expand Republic space was distasteful; especially with the Republic unable to provide for the citizens it already has," Yarael Poof said.

"Of expansionism, it smacks," Yaddle said.

"Outbound Flight isn't about colonization; it's about exploration and bringing the light of the Jedi to worlds that have never known it!" C'Baoth said.

"The decision has been made," Eeth Koth said.

Jorus C'Baoth laid back in his chair and scanned the council chamber. Dark clouds darkened the sky over their part of the city. Then he realized something.

"You agree with them," C'Baoth said. It was not a question.

"Laudable, your goal is," Yoda said. "Our own problems we however have which must be resolved first."

The sudden inability of the Jedi to glimpse the future. It had started twenty years ago, and had only gotten worse as more time passed.

"At the risk of praising those who cannot feel the Force, normals are able to conduct their lives without being able to see the future," C'Baoth said. "We should not let this handicap stop us from moving our agenda forward."

No one in the council deigned to reply. The downcast looks on their faces proved to C'Baoth that he was right.

"The Jedi do not have the resources to do this on their own," Plo Koon said.

"This is an election year," Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "I suggest resubmitting your proposal at the beginning of next year. Young eyes may see in it what old eyes could not."

"No, I will not play the game of politics; we are better than that," C'Baoth said. He stood. "I hereby resign from the Jedi Council."

"I think you're over-reacting," Poof said.

"Of the essence, patience is," Yoda said.

"Outbound Flight may have been canceled, but I intend to go forward with the mission. In the past there was a special order of Jedi who patrolled the frontier; who explored the unknown regions of the galaxy and brought the light of our teachings to those who didn't know it," C'Baoth said. "I hereby reestablish the order of Jedi Watchmen, and I will be the first to join it."

"You don't have the authority to do that on your own," Saesee Tiin said.

"As a Jedi Master I am allowed to make my own decisions regarding my fate. I will undertake Outbound Flight's mission on my own. Any of like mind can follow me," C'Baoth said. Not waiting for a response, he strode out of the council chamber.

* * *

 _Now_

The GH-9 droid was floating in the reception area of the medical bay when Kanan and Bail returned. Its medical appendages were all folded up or at rest; its eyes burned the eerie blue which had always left Bail ill-at-ease around the droid.

"Before I give you my report, you must agree to keep any information I give you in confidence, and be aware that it is a violation of Alderaan law to use any information in this report to deny the patient housing or employment. By agreeing to hear my assessment you agree to make reasonable accommodations—"

"Confidentiality and disability agreement override," Bail said sternly.

The droid stopped speaking instantly, it vocoder slurred over the last syllable.

"Handy," Kanan said. "Can we borrow one of your technicians? There's a couple of droids I'd like them to work on."

Bail gave him a sly grin. "I'll see what I can do."

"The patient is approximately 70 years old," GH-9 started, without prompting. "He is good health, with a minor form of hibernation sickness, which should pass within the next forty-eight hours."

"Doesn't hibernation sickness usually involve temporary blindness?" Kanan said. Bail thought he heard some longing in the emphasis of "temporary".

"Yes, but I believe that the patient has overcome this due to their unique neurological profile," GH-9 said.

"You mean his Jedi training?" Kanan said.

"No. The patient had minor brain damage; I assumed that this was a result of his time in hibernation, but the patient informed me that it was due to a training accident in his youth. Since he showed no impairment on neurological tests, it is obvious that neuroplasticity has allowed him to overcome any disability caused by this damage. This would also lead to a different neuron route through the brain which connects the optic nerve and brain, which the hibernation sickness was not able to affect."

"Are there any other areas of concern?" Bail said.

"None worth mentioning," the droid said.

"Can we talk with him?" Kanan said.

"I would prefer he rest, but he has been irritable and restless ever since he was released from carbon freeze," the droid said. "So I would have no objections."

Seeing that he was dismissed, the droid floated off.

"He will have to come with us," Kanan said. "At least until he can come to terms with what's changed over the past 40 years."

"I can't imagine him going anywhere without a thorough explanation of the reasoning," Bail said. "He is a Jedi Master after all."

Kanan let out a long sigh. They were running out of time; everyone on the _Tantive IV_ was a member of the Rebellion; but the same couldn't be said about the ships that Bail was brining in to help with the revival of the slaves they had found in the Hutt ship. The _Ghost_ and her crew needed to be long gone by the time they arrived.

"How long do we have left?"

Bail checked the chronometer on his wrist-comm. "The medical frigates are scheduled to get here in 10 hours."

"We have that long to tell him about the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Empire."

"That should only take like, what, six hours?"

"Closer to seven, I would think."

* * *

The four of them met an hour later in one of the _Tantive IV_ 's conference rooms. C'Baoth was now clad in one of the repair crew's jumpsuits as his clothes were being tended to in the ship's laundry.

"Who are you?" he bluntly said to Hera as they sat down.

"I am Hera Syndulla, captain of the _Ghost_ , and…" Hera rubbed her chin in contemplation.

"Best to get it all out in the open," Bail said. "Master C'Baoth, in the forty years that you've been asleep, many changes have overtaken the galaxy. I dare say that very little of the galaxy you knew remains."

C'Baoth narrowed his eyes. "What exactly do you mean?"

"Both the Jedi Order and the Republic no longer exist," Kanan said. Bail winced.

"That doesn't entirely surprise me. I suspect the Republic fell apart, a civil war perhaps? I assume the galaxy is split up into fiefdoms and independent worlds, constantly fighting each other," C'Baoth said. "Though, truth be told, I would have expected the Jedi Order to last longer. We did survive the dissolution of the Republic Galactica and the Sith Empire, after all."

"I'm afraid the situation is very much the opposite," Hera said. "The Republic is now an Empire, lead by an Emperor with absolute power."

"The Emperor is a Dark Lord of the Sith," Kanan said. "And he was responsible for the extinction of the Jedi Order."

C'Baoth sat in silence for a long time, making eye-contact with all three of them in turn, as if he was trying to see if they were lying.

"You will tell me what happened," C'Baoth said.

"Well, I suppose it began about five years after you disappeared," Bail said. "With the taxation of trade routes—"

"The Trade Federation invaded Naboo," Kanan said, cutting Bail off. "This lead to Senator Palpatine of Naboo getting the sympathy of the Senate, and he was elected as Supreme Chancellor."

"Well, that was the Senate doing something right for a change. I knew Sheev Palpatine, he was a straight-shooter and very perceptive for a…. senator," C'Baoth said.

"Sheev Palpatine is the Emperor," Hera said.

Again C'Baoth sat in silence. "I am going to accept that as the truth," he said finally. "If only because it doesn't even work as a joke. Continue."

"Count Dooku left the Jedi Order, and from his ancestral seat of power on Serenno he formed an alliance with virtually every conglomerate in the Republic. With those and various local alliances and treaty groups, about 5000 worlds seceded from the Republic," Bail said.

"Palpatine refused to accept their secession and began a war of reunification," Kanan said. "His main forces were an army of clones lead by the Jedi."

"Just a moment, where did he get a clone army from?" C'Baoth said.

"We've never been clear on that. A Jedi Knight by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi found that the clonemasters of Kamino had created a clone army for the Republic. It was apparently ordered by a Jedi by the name of Sifo-Dyas, but the selection of the clone template and the funding for the army came from unknown sources. We have come to believe that Palpatine, or Darth Sidious as he prefers to be called, was responsible," Bail said.

"So the Jedi took command of a clone army that they had never requested, which had mysterious funding? Did they ever bother to question the clonemasters?" C'Baoth said.

"It gets worse, the creation of a Republic army was a hotly-debated issue at the time. Palpatine had tried for a year to get the motion passed. The Senate granted him emergency powers so he could take control of the clone army and use it against the separatists," Bail said.

"And no one in the senate questioned why a clone army, which would have taken a decade to grow, was suddenly at hand?" C'Baoth said.

The three Rebel leaders stared at the table in shame.

"So let me guess how this story ends, the clones won the war, and then reacted to some programming placed in their brains by the clonemasters on Darth Sidious's order, and they killed all of the Jedi, but not before Palpatine claimed that they were traitors," C'Baoth said.

"Almost, but not quite. The Jedi attempted to overthrow Palpatine, but a Jedi by the name of Anakain Skywalker, who was the strongest Jedi of his age, betrayed them and became known as Darth Vader," Kanan said.

"Hmmm, regrettable. How along ago did this happen?" C'Baoth said.

"The end of the Clone Wars was almost twenty years ago," Hera said.

"Hmm, I have to give Sheev credit for keeping it together this long," C'Baoth said. He started at each of them in turn again. "Since there is a Jedi present, I am assuming that you are part of some resistance organization."

"Yes, and that's why we had to tell you this all so quickly," Kanan said. "We need to get out of here before our presence exposes Viceroy Organa's connection with the Rebellion. It isn't safe for you to remain here either; all Jedi are wanted and will be killed on sight."

"I am more than capable of taking care of myself," C'Baoth said.

"Even though it has been 40 years there's still chance that someone might recognize you," Bail said.

"Infiltration is second-nature to Jedi Knights, and I am a Jedi Master of no mean ability. I won't be in any danger," C'Baoth said.

The three rebel leaders exchanged exasperated looks. Suddenly all the pieces clicked into place in Kanan's mind.

"Master, I didn't want to say this before… but the truth is that the Rebellion needs you," Kanan said.

"Yes, Master C'Baoth," Bail said, catching the drift and playing along. "You were a wise Jedi Master who sat on the council for many years; even now stories of your wisdom still circulate. The leadership of this Rebellion needs someone like you."

"I am barely even a Jedi Knight," Kanan said. "I was a Padawan when the war ended and my master was killed. I faced the trials many years later, and haven't had anyone to help me reach mastery. I would also need your help to train my own Padawan."

Now it was C'Baoth's time to look exasperated. "Very well, the future of the Jedi is important to me. And thought I doubt there is much difference between this Empire and the Republic I knew, I will provide my wisdom on how to fight it."

* * *

The _Ghost_ glided through the blinding white of hyperspace. Hera was at the controls, while the three Jedi sat in the back and talked. Zeb and Sabine had gotten uncomfortable stares from C'Baoth and had gone back to the cockpit after a few minutes.

"So, what was it like being frozen in carbonite for 40 years?" Ezra asked.

"It's all a muddle, I had no sense of time, place or circumstance," C'Baoth said. "Which is probably for the best. If I had realized where I was, and the situation I was in, I would certainly have gone mad."

C'Baoth turned to face Kanan. "And I must amend my earlier statement, Master Jarrus. Now that I have been able to collect my thoughts, I do remember sensing you in my slumber and reaching out to you."

"That's very impressive considering you weren't conscious," Kanan said. "Of course we Jedi are well-known for our reflexes, even in sleep, thanks to the Force."

Ezra could almost feel an icy chill come off C'Baoth because of that comment. From the look on Kanan's face, he had felt it too. Ezra furrowed his brow; that reaction didn't make any sense.

"Quite," C'Baoth said, and the chill was gone.

"So how did you end up frozen in carbonite on a Hutt slaver ship?" Ezra asked.

"By overreaching, my young friend," C'Baoth said, with a small smile. "As I made my way to the Unknown Regions, I passed through spaceports all along the mid and outer-rim. I booked passage on ships in return for my services. At the edge of Republic space, where Hutt-controlled space began, I came across a truly horrific situation…"

* * *

 _Then_

Mayor Ainsley was just sitting down to dinner when Stuart came crashing in.

"Master, I'm sorry, but Master Stuart insisting on seeing you," Salla, the captain of his security force said.

Ainsley's wife gave him an evil look; but he did his best to ignore it.

"Come, let's talk about this in the study," the mayor said, rising from the table.

Leaving his scowling wife behind, the mayor walked Stuart into studied and closed the heavy wooden door behind him.

"Can I pour you a drink?" Ainsley said, as he did for himself.

Stuart wasted no time. "There's a Jedi at the spaceport."

Ainsley's hands shook as he poured from the decanter. He looked up in shock.

"That's impossible, there hasn't been a Jedi on this planet in hundreds of years," Ainsley said. "And even then, not outside of legends."

Their planet, Reliqui, was on the very edge of explored space; it was one of the last planets colonized by the Republic Galactica in their great rimward push two millennia before. They were nominally members of the Republic; they had no seats in the senate, and received no benefits; on the other hand, they didn't have to pay any taxes either.

"One of the freighter captains was talking about it at the cantina. There was some old guy in plain robes who was looking for passage into the Unknown Regions," Stuart said.

Ainsley shook his head and took a sip from the glass. "There are a lot of people who wear robes; that doesn't make them a Jedi."

"That's just it, though, he told the captain that he was a Jedi Master. He said that his skills might be of use in one of their runs, and that's how he'd pay for passage," Stuart said. "He even picked up a 2-tonne crate with his mind to prove it."

Ainsley felt a weird sort of lightness in his chest. It took him a moment to place it; he hadn't felt hope in so long that he didn't recognize it. He quickly squashed it, however.

"The captain probably made the story up. He just wanted to amuse the other patrons, or try to impress people," Ainsley said.

"I was wondering that too, and called him on it, but he gave told me the address of the flophouse where the supposed Jedi was staying," Stuart said, digging a napkin out of the pocket of his jacket.

Ainsley stared at the napkin for several moments, and took several sips of his drink. He then pressed a button on his wrist-com.

"I think I'm going to regret this," Ainsley said. "But I suppose it's worth the risk of looking foolish if it could get us out of this."

The wooden door slid open and Salla walked in.

"Salla, send a couple of your men to this address," He said, handing him the napkin. "There should be a plain-dressed old man there who claims to be a Jedi. Tell him that I want to see him, and bring him along if he agrees," Ainsley said.

Salla nodded. "Of course, sir."

* * *

"In the core worlds, have you ever heard of a Hutt by the name of Xeba?" Ainsley said.

"If you've seen one Hutt, you've seen them all," C'Baoth said.

It was scarcely an hour later, and the Jedi Master was sitting in one of the arm-chairs in Ainsley's study. He had declined the offer of a drink, of course.

"Xeba is a slaver. In my grandfather's time he came to our world and threatened to enslave all of us," Ainsley said. His eyes began to burn as he recounted the story. "But he made a deal with my predecessor, apparently since it was bad business to waste a renewable resource. He compared enslaving us all to strip-mining. The deal he made was this: every year he would return here, and in exchange for leaving us alone, we would give over 10 of our people into slavery. Since then over 5000 of our people have ended up as slaves of the Hutts, and we have never see them again."

"I suppose you attempted to get the Republic involved," C'Baoth said.

"Yes, the first day I took office. I discovered that there is an investigation which has been awaiting approval in the court system since the day the agreement was struck," Ainsley said.

"Without money or influence, nothing gets done in either the executive or judicial branches," C'Baoth said.

"Which is why you're our only hope," Ainsley said.

"This planet is quite a distance from Nal Hutta," C'Baoth said. "How did Xeba even know about this place?"

"We're on the official Republic star charts, he must have picked us out," Ainsley said. "Xeba is a coward as well as a thug. Out here he doesn't have to worry about reprisals from the Republic, or competition from other Hutts."

"When is he due?" C'Baoth said.

"Three months from now, at the start of the harvest cycle," Ainsley said. "He chose that date intentionally."

C'Baoth ran his fingers through his beard, seemingly lost in thought. "How do you determine which people are made slaves?"

"We have a lottery of the able-bodied people, between the ages of 18 and 30," Ainsley said.

"I will need accommodations during my stay here," He said, looking around the study. "Something similar to this house will be adequate."

"You mean you'll help us?" Ainsley said, his heart pounding.

"It is the duty of the Jedi to help the common people solve problems they cannot solve themselves," C'Baoth said.

Ainsley felt a chill go through his body. Part of him, which he quickly silenced, wondered if perhaps Xeba was preferable to C'Baoth.

* * *

The last few months before a visit from Xeba were always unhappy ones for Ainsley—these were the times when he had to set up the lottery and make arrangements for the slaves' detention once they were chosen out of the populace. He would have expected that C'Baoth's vow to help them would make these months more bearable; however what relief he got from the newfound hope was washed away by frustration with their potential savior.

Since there were no houses similar to the mayor's own, he was forced to give up his house to accommodate C'Baoth. Ainsley didn't think his wife or daughter would ever speak to him again.

C'Baoth made quite a splash on the social scene; eating at the best restaurants, consuming the best wines, wearing the best clothes. No one aside from Ainsley and his staff knew that C'Baoth's was a Jedi, so everyone just assumed that he was some rich eccentric from the Core Worlds who was slumming. Many toadied up to him in hopes of getting passage off Reliqui when he left.

When the day finally came, C'Baoth joined the reception committee that would present the slaves to Xeba at the spaceport. C'Baoth wore neither his plain Jedi robes, or the expensive aristocratic clothes he had spent half of the government's annual budget on; instead he was clad in the jumpsuit of a spaceport worker.

"As far as the hutt is concerned, I am ground crew, and my only purpose there is to provide any assistance with his ship," C'Baoth explained as they rode a speeder towards the spaceport. "I am not part of your staff, and you don't know my name."

"What exactly is the plan?" Salla said.

"What you do not know, you cannot divulge through torture," C'Baoth said.

There was no more conversation for the rest of the ride.

"This is quite the crop you have for me this year," Xeba said in Huttese. "The woman are especially lovely."

Ainsley gritted his teeth, but said nothing.

Xeba's inspection of the ten sacrificial victims complete, he slithered across the landing platform to Ainsley. "I was just thinking, it has been a very long time since my crew has had any rest or recreation. If I stayed here a couple of days, I'm sure it would be a boon for your settlement's business."

Ainsley swallowed, but said nothing. He could only imagine the carnage that would result from such a layover.

Xeba shrugged. "Sadly, we've got an appointment to keep at Ord Pendal. Maybe next year, eh?"

Relief flooded through Ainsley, so the slight smile that crossed his lips was genuine. "Yes, perhaps next year," he said.

"Come on boys, round up the meat."

The group of heavily armed twileks and rodians Xeba had turned their weapons on the newly minted slaves and forced them to march up the ramp into the ship.

"Well, aren't you going to do something?" Ainsley hissed once the hutt was out of sight. He turned around and was stunned to discover that the jumpsuit-clad C'Baoth was no longer behind him.

"When did he leave?" Ainsley said to Salla. Salla was speechless, and simply shook his head in reply.

* * *

"Any problems on the surface, sir?" Captain Sapkifoc said.

Xeba finished crawling up the ramp to his command dais before he answered the twillek. "Just a little rudeness, captain. I allow it, though; I broke their spirits completely years ago. Let them have their little moment of rebellion; we both know who's still in charge."

Sapkifoc responded with a a smile that displayed his sharp teeth.

"All speed to Ord Pendal, sir?" Sapkifoc said.

"Feeling a little anxious, Sapkifoc?" Xeba said.

"Well, we are running a little behind, sir," Sapkifoc said.

"Jabba doesn't make my schedule, so we are completely on time," Xeba said.

"Of course, of course sir," Sapkifoc sputtered. "It's just that when we are…. later than Jabba expected us, he tends to take his anger out on our crew."

"Which he compensates us for," Xeba said.

"Yes, but then we have to replace them, and Ord Pendal doesn't exactly have a flight academy," Sapkifoc said. In fact, they didn't even have cities, the people still lived in caves.

Xeba laughed. "All right, captain, I'll stop busting your chops. All speed to Ord Pendal."

Sapkifoc turned to helmsman Veent "You heard him."

"Yes, sir," Veent said, and began to type the planet's coordinates into the navcomp. As he was about to hit the red "Calculate" button he felt his vision blur, and his mind begin to drift. He stared at the quadruple of decimal numbers on the navcomp's display; what was he thinking? Those coordinates were for a point somewhere on the outer rim. Everyone knew that Ord Pendal was just north of the Galactic Core. He cleared the display and typed in the correct coordinates, and hit "Calculate".

He went back to monitoring his displays. He was beginning to think that the navcomp was taking longer than usual when the green light appeared on his console appeared which meant that the route had been planned. He took a cursory glance at the wireframe route as it appeared on the navcomp's display, and keyed the hyperdrive to accept the navcomp's route. He then pulled back on the hyperdrive levers; the entire ship shuddered for a second, and there was a flicker of pseudomotion on the viewport, and then they were in hyperspace.

"Veent! What the hell are you playing at?" Sapkifoc said.

Veent looked up from his console, confused. "Captain?"

Sapkifoc looked at the navcomp's viewscreen in confusion, then rubbed his eyes and took a look again. "I'm sorry, helmsman, it's just for a second that route looked wrong."

The rodian gave Sapkifoc his race's equivalent of a smile. "I've been having that sort of day too, captain."

"Something the matter, captain?" Xeba said.

Sapkifoc stood up and strode over to the command dais. "No, nothing sir, just my eyes playing tricks on me."

* * *

Xeba was drifting in and out of sleep when shift-changed occurred. He had extremely comfortable quarters a mere hundred feet away, but he enjoyed sitting on the command dais; it reminded the ship's crew who was in charge.

Freetsaetso, a rodian who had a much more powerful build than Veent, was taking his position at the helmsman station. As he sat down he glanced at the navcomp and grunted. "What the hell?"

"Something wrong, Freetsaetso?" Sapkifoc said.

"Oh, no sir… It's just, when I was looking at the hyperspace route, it seemed wrong at first. My eyes must be playing tricks on me," Freetsaetso said.

Xeba's eyes flew open, and the dozy feeling fled from his mind. There was a saying on Nal Hutta: once was an aberration, twice was a coincidence, and three times was a trend.

He turned to the dead repeater displays on his the command dais and activated the one which duplicated the output of the navcomp. He was not an expert on navigation, but he could tell just by looking at it that something was wrong. A journey between two outer rim worlds should be a more or less straight line; the stars in that part of the galaxy were so far apart that there was usually no need to navigate around gravity wells. Yes, there would be the occasionally curve or two, possibly as much as ten, but the route they were following had thousands of such bends, and they increased in frequency the further along the line they went.

Xeba looked at the coordinates in the detail section at the bottom of the display and his eyes burned; they were a set of coordinates that every traveler knew more or less by the heart, the coordinates of Coruscant; and that was where they were headed.

Xeba flicked a switch and silently invisible defense screens formed around his dais.

"Freetsaetso, take us out of hyperspace," Xeba said.

Freetsaetso's right hand moved towards the set of levers that controlled the hyperdrive. Suddenly his hand fell limply to the console.

"Freetsaetso, I said—" Xeba said, but was interrupted as the air around him shimmered with blue light. He turned to see that Sapkifoc had pulled his blaster and had taken a shot at him. Freetsaetso's chair whirled around and he cracked off a couple of shots at Xeba as well, which were harmlessly absorbed by the force field.

Xeba slammed a button on his control panel. "Anti-mutiny protocol, level 1!" he howled.

Panels slid open on the ceiling and lethal wardroids dropped to the floor. The mutinous crewmembers trained their fire on the new robotic menace, but were quickly taken out of commission with paralyzing rings of blue light.

Xeba crawled over to the security console and check the feeds; fighting was occurring all over the ship. Xeba was flummoxed; the droids were only to open fire if attacked; they were supposed to arrest any crew they found and take them to the brig. What Xeba was seeing was impossible; it was impossible for every single member of his crew to mutiny. The ones who were in it for the money, sure, but not the ones he had coerced. And certainly some among the greedy would realize they would be a greater reward in turning on the mutineers.

However something in the aft cargo-bay caught his attention. One of the wardroids was floating above the ground, its shots going wild as it spun. An old man in a jumpsuit was standing nearby, his hand held aloft. The shots were picking off the other wardroids in the bay.

Xeba had heard old stories of Jedi who fought without lightsabers; more than 100 years ago a Jedi gave up the blade when they achieved the rank of Jedi Master. The few Jedi that Xeba had run into in his 600 years were Knights who still relied on their laserswords. What Xeba saw on the display was eerie and, frankly, frightened him.

Xeba keyed the command to depressurize the cargo bay. There were some crewmembers in there, some of them even worth saving, but he wasn't going to give the Jedi a chance.

The Jedi didn't go down easily. As soon as he realized what had happened, he crushed the sole surviving wardroid into junk with the Force. He stormed over towards the exit into the engineering compartment. Unbelievably the inner airlock started to open; Xeba's mind boggled. The Jedi must have been moving the components of the airlock system with his mind. It was much less impressive than controlling the minds of his entire crew, but it was enough.

What happened next occurred so fast that it took almost a minute for Xeba to figure out what had happened. When he did, he burst out in laughter.

The Jedi had been standing right in front of the airlock as it had opened. Since he was forcing it open, the airlock cycle hadn't taken place. When the door was forced open a hurricane-force wind blew into the cargo bay as the atmosphere flooded in to fill the vacuum; the Jedi was flung across the compartment and slammed into the opposite bulkhead. The rare atmosphere and exertion seemed to have finally taken their toll: he did not get up.

"Wardroids: stun the prisoner is the aft cargo bay and freeze him in carbonite with all due haste!" Xeba said.

No need to take chances.

* * *

 _Now_

"Wow!" Ezra said. "I had no idea that a Jedi could be that powerful!"

"Nothing is beyond the ability of a Jedi Master," C'Baoth said.

Kanan thought it wouldn't be a smart idea to mention that, for all his powers, C'Baoth had ended up getting caught.

"How did the ship crash, then?" Kanan said.

"I don't know," C'Baoth said. "I suppose that's a mystery for the ages."

* * *

 _Then_

"Bring us out of hyperspace," Xeba said.

"I cannot," the wardroid said. "My programming does not include starship navigation."

Xeba grunted, and crawled back up the ramp to his command dais. He keyed the com for the medical bay. "Send a response team here immediately."

He looked at the route on the navcomp repeater; they wouldn't enter the Core Systems for another five hours. If they disengaged the hyperdrive now, they'd still be in the mid-rim, almost certainly in interstellar space. Technically they'd be in Republic space, but they'd certainly have enough time to revive a skeleton crew and jump back to the outer rim.

The elevator doors to the bridge hissed open, and three GH-3 droids floated out.

"Revive them," Xeba said, motioning to the unconscious crewman. "Give priority to Freetsaetso."

"Yes sir," the three of them replied in chorus. They clustered around the fallen form of Freetsaetso.

Several minutes passed in silence, then one of the medical droids floated over to Xeba.

"Sir, crewman Freetsaetso is dead," the droid said.

"That's impossible! The wardroids used stun beams on them, I saw it myself!" Xeba howled. "Did his heart give out?"

"No sir, he's suffered extensive brain damage," the droid said.

Xeba rubbed his chins; that didn't make any sense. Stun beams didn't work that way. "Check the others."

A few minutes later, the same result came back for everyone on the bridge: extreme brain damage. Xeba realized that it must have been a result of the Jedi's mind control; he had never heard of the Jedi mind trick causing brain damage; but he also had never heard of a Jedi being able to completely take over 233 minds at once.

Xeba quickly, and bloodlessly, accepted the fact that his crew was dead. He could signal one of his family members for help; possibly Jabba, as he had already paid for half of their cargo. But he had to stop the ship's journey into the Core Systems. For that he would need to disable the hyperdrive, but (like all Hutts) he used people, and not droids, for engineers. Which meant that he no longer had any engineers.

"My cargo for an astromech!" Xeba seethed.

He keyed the com for engineering. "Wardroid!"

One of the wardroids standing guard strode over to the viewscreen. "Yes, sir?"

"Disable the hyperdrive," Xeba said.

"Yes, sir," the wardroid said.

Then, to Xeba's horror, the war droid swiveled around and opened fire on the hyperdrive.

Outside the viewport the light wall of hyperspace flickered many times as the hyperdrive screeched to a halt. The ship didn't simply shudder, as it did when returning to realspace, it ground and groaned to a halt.

Xeba looked out the viewport, and was confused to see that there weren't any stars.

He stared at the navigation display and saw that they were less than 100 kilometers above the surface of a massive planet.

"Get us out of here!" Xeba said. Then he realized that there was no one anywhere on the ship that could do anything.

In the last five minutes of his life, Xeba could do nothing but sit on his command dais and watch in terror as the ship plummeted to its inevitable doom.


End file.
